


young at heart

by bukowsking



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 40s music, 50s Music, Alcohol, Banter, Dancing, Dirty Talk, Doris Day, Ella Fitzgerald - Freeform, F/M, Frank Sinatra - Freeform, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Peggy Lee, Reader-Insert, Sexual Tension, Smut, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Vaginal Sex, happy birthday bucky, i suck at write endings i am so sorry, safe sex, self indulgent tbh, tony stark is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 09:17:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18891658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bukowsking/pseuds/bukowsking
Summary: James’ small smile morphs into a full blown grin at the cheeky lyrics, shaking his head in Tony’s general direction. You couldn’t help your own grin from taking form at the antics between those two, and your eyes were full of mirth as you met James’ gaze once again. The noise of the band performing the music during the song break all but drowned out as you felt the natural beat of the lyrics coming back in soon, ready to give your all into the big finish.ortony stark hires you to sing for bucky's 105th birthday celebration. you have a better time than you'd expect.





	young at heart

**Author's Note:**

> i apologize for my terrible writing. i own nothing but the plot line. also there's no set song for the smut scene but fever by peggy lee is what i imagined playing as i wrote it. 
> 
> enjoy xx

The email from Stark Industries sits in your inbox for weeks before you finally muster up the courage to answer it. Surely this must be a joke, you think to yourself. Yeah, you had a good few thousand subscribers to your YouTube channel, but in no way did you ever think Tony fucking Stark would want you to sing for him. Well, for Bucky Barnes’ birthday, to be exact.

 

It was to be the super soldier's 105th celebration, and Tony, being the self proclaimed king of pranksters among the Avengers, brought it upon himself to ensure that his  _ favorite friend  _ would have the party of the century. Well, centur _ ies _ .

 

And that’s how you wound up here. Styling your long hair into victory rolls and slipping into a black, strapless, floor length [gown](https://www.prettylittlething.com/black-bandeau-folded-detail-extreme-split-maxi-dress.html) with a slit that reached your mid thigh and matching black evening gloves that reached above your elbow. Mr. Stark seemed very adamant about the 40’s era dress code set in place, and so you accentuated the outfit with a pop of red on your lips and a pair of your late grandmother’s favorite gold earrings. 

 

Mister Stark had ensured that his personal driver, a man that went by the misnomer of Happy, picked you up from your Park Avenue apartment at 8 o’clock promptly, and that you’d be on stage no later than 10. Happy provides you with a generous flute full of champagne as the two of you make your way to Stark Tower, an admittedly egregious building erected smack in the middle of Manhattan. While you could admire Stark’s gall, you also reserved the right to criticize the man’s obvious need to overcompensate for… something. 

 

You arrive just two minutes shy of 8, and Tony Stark himself greets you in the main elevator. “Party’s up in the dance hall, 17th floor. JARVIS?” He speaks upward, seemingly to nothing, but you know all about the AI installed. Stark’s genius is a hot topic for every magazine, and you couldn’t help but indulge at the supermarket. “Many thanks for following the dress code, by the way, Miss [L/N]. Even if Barnes doesn’t appreciate it, at least you know one man will.” The bastard has the audacity to wink, and you suppress the urge to roll your mascara-clad eyes. He’s technically your boss for the night, and you couldn’t risk offending your client at the detriment of your building reputation. 

 

Thankfully, the ride is short and in a matter of minutes, you’re ushered behind the stage and pampered on with fresh fruit and water with lemon wedges. A small woman with red hair and freckles introduces herself as Pepper, and makes it her personal business to touch up your makeup and spritz your hair one last time before you make your “big debut.” Let it be known that Tony Stark does nothing in half measures.

 

The nerves settled deep in your core spike up just at the wrong moment, and you take some deep, shaky breaths in an attempt to center yourself behind the curtain. Sure, this was no arena, but it was your first live event - other than family gatherings - nonetheless. A billionaire had booked you for his party, and you were going to make sure that it was worth every single cent. The mindless chatter of the crowd dwindled down and you watched as a spotlight shone just beyond the curtain, the outline of Mr. Stark’s compact body reflected on the curtain. “Ladies and gentlemen, super soldiers and ex-assassins,” Hold for laughter, “It is my pleasure to present to you our star of the evening. The incomparable, the gorgeous, the soon-to-be YouTube famous. Miss [Y/N] [L/N.]” 

 

The curtains parted in what felt like slow motion, and then there you stood. Applause echoed through the room and you graced the attendees with what you hoped was charming smile, catching a nod of approval from Tony out of the corner of your eye. The music is beginning to swell, and that’s when your gaze falls upon the man of the hour. He’s followed the dress code to a T, no doubt at the insistence of Stark. He’s clad in a clear replica of what his old uniform must have looked like, and he’s cut his hair in favor of the short cut he once sported. You’ve seen the pictures, visited the museum where he and Captain Rogers are forever immortalized. He was a looker then, and even more of a looker now. Steel-blue eyes bored into yours and warmth pooled in your belly as you opened your red-stained lips to begin singing.

 

[ _ fairy tales can come true, it can happen to you _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KYTGA-swsNc)

_ if you’re young at heart _

_ for it’s hard, you will find, to be narrow of mind, _

_ when you’re young at heart _

 

It’s not a song you figure he’ll immediately recognize, considering Frank Sinatra rose to fame while James’ mind was still being played with by HYDRA. Nonetheless, Tony was adamant about this particular song selection, and you were here to please. A newly-formed smile graces the birthday boy - man’s - face and his head tilts in interest as he observes you. A soft prickling of goosebumps forms beneath your gloves.

 

_ you can go to extremes with impossible schemes, _

_ you can laugh when your dreams fall apart at the seams _

 

_ and life gets more exciting with each passing day, _

_ and love is either in your heart.. or on its way _

 

The words come easy to you, and why shouldn’t they? This song was practically on repeat during your trips to your grandparents’ cabin upstate. A new warmth now fills your heart as you begin to see a few couples take to the dancefloor, swaying each other and eyes twinkling with adoration. Hell, even Stark gathers up Ms. Potts, to which she blushed furiously yet continues dancing anyway. Memories of your grandparents flash in your mind, and James’ gaze still hasn’t budged. 

 

_ don’t you know that it’s worth every treasure on earth, _

_ to be young at heart? _

 

_ for as rich as you are, it’s much better by far, _

_ to be young at heart _

 

_ and if you should survive to a hundred and five, _

_ look at all you’ll derive out of being alive _

_ and here is the best part, you have a head start, _

_ if you are among the very young at heart _

 

James’ small smile morphs into a full blown grin at the cheeky lyrics, shaking his head in Tony’s general direction. You couldn’t help your own grin from taking form at the antics between those two, and your eyes were full of mirth as you met James’ gaze once again. The noise of the band performing the music during the song break all but drowned out as you felt the natural beat of the lyrics coming back in soon, ready to give your all into the big finish.

 

_ and if you should survive to a hundred and five, _

_ look at all you’ll derive out of being alive _

_ and here is the best part, you have a head start, _

_ if you are among the very young… at heart _

 

****************************************************************

 

The room all but bursts in thunderous applause and a soft rosy color fills your cheeks as you take your bow, James’ standing ovation not going unnoticed. Tony takes over the mic to once again give credit to your ‘stupendous talent,’ and you join the rest of the guests as the band carries on with an instrumental version of a [Doris](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBqaRlDcmbw) Day song. Miss Potts presses kisses to your cheeks and congratulates you on your performance, offering you a glass of Stark’s personal favorite bottle of chardonnay, and you thank her profusely.

 

The night passes on in a flurry of greetings and top shelf alcohol, although you sip yours rather slowly. Clear head makes for better decisions, and all that. It may be a party, but it was still business and you were determined to make the best impression possible. You’re stood on the balcony, a mostly un-smoked cigarette dangling from your fingertips, and for a few moments, your heart sinks in your chest. Somehow, you’d fooled yourself into thinking that James would have at least introduced himself, if not ask for a dance. You were a fool. James stuck to Captain Rogers’ side for most of the night, and you watched in disappointment as yet another red-head woman, this one with a more distinct looking face than Miss Potts, draped herself against his side with a sense of familiarity.

 

His wife. Or girlfriend, at least. Figures.

 

The cool New York air filled your lungs, finally stomping out your cigarette against the cement beneath your heels. Your [e/c] eyes slid shut as you attempted to gather your wits.  _ You can’t let one man frazzle you like this, [y/n.] You’ve worked so incredibly hard to get here and you were  _ not _ going to let James Barnes ruin it for you - no matter how much you wanted him to ruin you in another sense. _

 

“Y’alright, Miss?” The smooth, if a bit gravelly, voice cut through your silent sound barrier, and you turned to meet the same blue eyes you saw behind your closed lids. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, up close and in the flesh. “You seemed a bit lost there, just now. Would’ya like some water? I could get you some water.”

 

Your head shook and you gave the young - ha- man a terse smile to quell his nerves. “Oh, that’s alright, I’m feeling just fine, sorry to scare you. I always seem to be a bit, um, retrospective after a performance.” And that wasn’t very much a lit, you found. You’d suffered from stage fright all your life, and though you’re able to power through it, it’s still mentally taxing. Not that anyone would care about these small details of your life, much less a man you didn’t know, a man who’d been through enough trauma for the both of you six times over.

 

“I see. Well, I just… just wanted ta’ let you know that I very much appreciate your time here. I know Tony ain’t the most… business appropriate person, so just. Thank you. I’m James, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

The Brooklyn drawl got to you, you had to admit. There’s something about a handsome man with a voice that could sweet talk you into just about anything that got you going.  _ Damn it _ , there was that blush again. You reached a gloved hand out to his outstretched hand, eyes tracking his every movement as he bent his hand a gently lifted your hand to kiss the back of it. Oh, you were so  _ fucked _ . Or at least, you were hoping to be. 

 

“[Y/N] [L/N.] The pleasure is all mine.”  _ Or both of ours, if you want, handsome _ . James’ eyes lit up beneath the soft glow of the moonlight, and your heartbeat quickened when you heard the faint lyrics of the song playing back in the dance hall.

 

[ _ stars shining bright above you, _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j6TmogXhOZ8)

_ night breezes seem to whisper i love you _

_ birds singing in the sycamore tree _

_ dream a little dream of me _

 

“Ha! A song I actually  _ know _ !” James’ smile resembled that of a kid set loose in a candy store, and you couldn’t help the gentle one that tugged on your face, a beginning bubbles of a giggle falling out of your mouth. He turned to you, a hopeful look in his eyes as he once again reached his arm out to you. “May I have this dance, Miss [L/N]?” 

 

You bit your lip, hoping to God the lipstick wouldn’t transfer to your teeth, mustering up every drop of confidence you could find in your body. “[Y/N.] Call me [Y/N].”

 

_ say nighty night and kiss me, _

_ just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me _

_ while i’m alone and blue as can be, _

_ dream a little dream of me _

 

Your bodies slowly twirled beneath the night sky, this surprisingly warm evening of March, on Tony Stark’s 17th floor balcony. This night was something that you knew you were never going to forget, and you’d hoped James felt the same, even if nothing significant took place. But you would say having the legendary Bucky Barnes having his arms around you while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear was damn sure significant.

 

“You sound even better than Ella, doll. Could listen to your voice all night, all my  _ life _ .” There was something weighted in that sentence, but you filed it away for later, choosing to savor in the low timbre of James’ voice instead. “You’re a vision, babygirl. An absolute  _ dream _ .”

 

_ stars fading but i linger on, dear _

_ still craving your kiss _

_ i’m longing to linger ‘till dawn, dear _

_ just saying this _

 

_ sweet dreams ‘till sunbeams find you _

_ sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you _

_ but in your dreams, whatever they be _

_ dream a little dream of me _

 

There were no words to describe the emotions tumbling within you. Lust met head on with admiration, and a dash of longing only complicated the mix. Suddenly, all the confidence you’d conjured up on that stage disappeared when it came to the man holding you in his - strong, stable - arms. One flesh, one metal, all-encompassing. 

 

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

 

You could hear the jest in his words, and you pulled your face back from its place in his shoulder to make eye contact. Whatever you were planning on saying got swallowed up in a gasp at the sight of his darkened eyes, lids heavy with want. Your words may have died in your throat, but there was no moment of hesitation as you leaned up and captured his mouth with your own. The deep rumble of his moan was enough of a reward in itself. 

 

“I say we take this somewhere more private, hm, Sergeant?” 

 

You’d never seen a man move so fast in your life. Tony could be seen smirking from afar, and you waved him off with a rushed grin and a wink. God bless the Starks.

 

_ stars fading but i linger on, dear _

_ still craving your kiss _

_ i’m longing to linger ‘till dawn, dear _

_ just saying this _

 

_ sweet dreams ‘till sunbeams find you _

_ sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you _

_ but in your dreams, whatever they be _

_ dream a little dream of me _

 

_ ********************************************************************************************************** _

 

James had you pressed against the wall of his bedroom and half-unzipped quicker than you’d expected. Your kisses were unhurried, however, and you’d giggle at the sight of your lipstick smeared across his mouth if it weren’t so damn attractive. The alcohol still slightly coursing through you gave you a hazy mind, but nonetheless, you suddenly remembered. “Wait, wait James, what about the redhead? The one - the one that was all over you?” Your words were laced with shaky breaths as the man in question pressed open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones, dipping dangerously lower as he went on.

 

“What? Y’mean Natasha? Bruce’s girl?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, gazing up at you from his place between your breasts. Your cheeks flushed and you felt silly at your mistake, eyes casting sideways in an attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Oh,  _ doll _ , doll, look at me,” His gentle hands cupped your face, standing upright once again as his lips met yours chastely. “I’ve had my eyes on you all night, [Y/N.]  _ Only _ you. Let me… can’t you  _ feel _ what you do t’me, baby?”

 

Arousal flared deep in your core as James pressed himself against you once more, his own arousal making itself known, practically digging into your thigh. Nerves all but washed away at his confirmation, and once again you two kissed as if the world were ending in mere minutes. Your dress slipped off neatly, your lace-clad chest rising and falling with the sound of your breathy moans. James’ own noises mingled with yours, and your now bare hands worked deftly to get him out of his uniform. Once he was left in just the thin material of his boxers, you took a pause to admire the sharp lines of his body.  _ Damn super soldier serum. One hundred and five years old and the man still didn’t look a day over twenty-five _ . 

 

“As much as I admire you lookin’, doll,” James’ words were laced with humor, and you gasped as he gathered you up in his arms again, only this time your legs wound tight around his waist. The hard line of his length ground down into the apex of your hips as your back pressed into the plush softness of the mattress, finding yourself pinned beneath the man you’d been admiring all evening. You could feel that flushed feeling beginning to prick at the base of your neck and into your chest, where James’ fingers were working to unclasp the lace bra encasing your breasts. Once it was discarded, his lips found their way to your nipples, your back arching instantaneously as a loud, wanton moan filled the room. 

 

This man would be the absolute death of you.

 

“ _ James _ , god.” You couldn’t help the soft utterance of his name, the pads of his thumbs running in circles over your sensitive buds as his mouth traveled lower and lower. You chanced a glance downward, lust only heightened at the sight of just how hard James was for you. It was almost comical, the way his length strained against his boxers, and part of you took pity for not noticing his neglected arousal sooner. Before you could even consider allowing your hand to dip inside the fabric, however, James’ mouth found purchase on the skin of your inner thighs. Good  _ lord _ . 

 

There was no doubt in your mind that James could see how much he was affecting you just by the wet patch forming on your panties, and yet another drawn out moan was ripped from your throat when you felt him mouthing at the damp material. Delicate hands reached up to grip the strong material of the headboard as James went to work between your thighs, and you couldn’t help but cross your ankles over his back, heels digging in just slightly. The cool air brushed against your heated core as James hurriedly rid you of your underwear, only for it to join the growing pile of neglected clothing on the floor.

 

“Almost ready for me, doll, don’t worry. Gonna make you feel s’good.” James’ hushed words lit a fire in your belly, and the fingers he pushed inside you did little to snuff it out. Small beads of sweat built up on your forehead and in the crevice of your shoulders, the noises slipping from your mouth like a choir of angels. And this was  _ just his fingers _ . You owe Tony Stark a thousand thank yous.

 

**************************************

 

A foil packet ripping open brings you back from the orgasm induced haze you were in, legs still spasming slightly and your heels long forgotten, in addition to James’ boxers. You could see all of him now, and your hunger swelled at the sight. The neat curls of your [h/c] hair had long since unfurled, creating a sort of halo on the pillow beneath your head. You’re sure you must’ve looked a state, but nothing deterred James as he lined himself up and slid home.

 

Every inch of his hardness was felt as your hips met flush against each other, his eyes never straying from yours and you noticed his own slicked-back hair was beginning to come undone. You could see the muscles of his abdomen clenching and relaxing, no doubt that he was making a valiant effort of controlling himself and allowing you some moments to adjust to his… endowment. 

 

Manicured nails gently ran over the length of his spine as your mouth brought itself to his ear, a soft murmur of, “Move, James,” and the rest is a lovely, lovely blur. The sweet nothings from your dance made their return, and the firm press of James’ thumb to your swollen clit was at the forefront of your mind. Each thrust was sensual and deep, let it be known that James Barnes was far from a selfish lover. 

 

“[Y/N], sweetheart,  _ god _ . You feel…” Like a dream. Like velvet. Like nothing and no one he’d ever felt before, and you’d learn that was very little. What James lacked in experience, he more than made up for in enthusiasm, and you admired the way his lips would upturn each time he brought you to that apex of pleasure. His orgasm followed your fourth, a deep rumble of your name and a matching bruises on your hips to commemorate the fact. 

 

Minutes later, when the condom was disposed of and the two of you were cocooned in the thin sheets of his bed, you whispered in James’ ear.

 

“Happy birthday, Bucky.”

 

**************************************************

 

A snort could be heard from across the kitchen the next morning, your nude form encased in one of James’ long - and coziest- shirts. You turned your head only to be met with the sight of a shit-eating grin on the face of one Tony Stark. His eyebrow raised as coffee made its way into his system, his doe brown eyes boring into the sight of you perched atop James' lap, the two of you nursing your own mugs.

 

‘I’ll take ‘Thank You, Tony’ for $200, Alex.”

 

You reveled in the feeling of joy as you and James both raised your middle fingers, and traveled back into the bedroom. You’d make a mental note to send Tony an edible arrangement at a later date. For now, you had more pressing matters to attend to. And if you listened to Frank Sinatra on repeat for the next few weeks well… who could really blame you?

**Author's Note:**

> i really struggled with figuring out the ending lines so i apologize if they aren't satisfying. 
> 
> comments and criticisms are much appreciated. xx


End file.
